I've found a new home...www.stheory.posterious.com
Hope its a much more simple and effective website.
7.26.2009
7.23.2009
a werewolf in paris
I think I'm becoming nocturnal, if I wasn't always so. My mother fondly recalls my early years as an infant. Not really. I had somehow decided that I functioned in Eastern Standard Time rather than the China time I was born in. This meant that I slept like a dead log through the day and stayed up crying from dusk until dawn. I went through five nannies. I guess I am a creature of the night.
This is the fifth night I am up late doing at least 8 or 9 different things. I got into this bad cycle after Bangkok, where I found out aside from the Royal Palace, Pat"Pong" night market, and Muay Thai boxing, which I did in one of our five days there, there wasn't much else I felt like except loitering in shiny shopping malls. I were templed-out, monumented-out, night market-ed out, and after a crap experience at Bangkok's most esteemed thai-food institution, even Thai food-ed out. With all of nothing to lure me out of bed in the mornings, I slept until all ungodly hours of the day, yelling at cleaning ladies to ignore my sheets as I was happy in my undisturbed filth, ending up in a competition with myself to see how late I can stay up.
I won with 5 am two nights ago at the Shenzhen airport. I seem to be eternally condemned to catching shit flights that arrive past midnight and connect at six am the next day. I am then so lazy to find a hotel for four hours that I just sit on a filthy bench and wait it out. But I really love the night. Nobody engages me in useless conversations that I cannot wait to get out of, the sun doesn't beckon me into the outdoors, which I love, really, and even the spam in my inbox shuffles in at less frequent intervals. And since I'm one of those people who obsessively check my email for any flicker of movement, that means less distractions.
There. I just completed the daunting task of 'editing' my Facebook "Connections" list. I like how Facebook named it that rather than "Authentic Lifelong Friends", apparently they know what they're dealing with. My connections were getting out of hand, so I just whittled it down by about 700. Besides, I think FB is phasing out, we're going in the direction of multi-platform communication. I have no idea what that means, but it sounds about right. Twitter's the way of the world, and by that declaration I'm not a citizen of the world because China's banned it as of now. Google wave is the way of the future, and it's probably a good thing Microsoft didn't spend a gazillion dollars buying FB out.
Speaking of gazillion, I am overwhelmed with all the activities I have on my plate. Good overwhelmed, not the other kind. I am developing a food tour in Shanghai, so am reading up all I can on the city's back alleys, see-and-be-seen venues, hidden gems, long-standing institutions, traditions and trends. Adlyn has created a monster spreadsheet of tasks for me to complete this month. I said I wanted to work on everything she could hand me, but even for me this is a challenge.
Hias Gourmet work is only a part of the personal goals I want to accomplish this month. I already have an eternally growing pile of books beside my bed that I WILL read by this month. I am on a lounge/mood music binge, so that means I just spent 3 hours ripping 20 cds onto my ipod, listening to them from morning until night. I go to sleep with sweet dreams of Stephane Pompougnac and I in the infamous Hotel Costes. In addition to the vast food literature I'm tackling, I re-caught the lit bug after reading Steinbeck's East of Eden. I need more greats! Give me major Fitzgerald, none of that minor stuff!
I am still working on all my vacay photos. I have set myself realistic goals however, of one city a day, in the order that they occur, and have labelled and organized all my photos in detail for this express purpose. I have just finished sorting through the last week in Beijing. Why the f couldn't god have made the days 50 hours long? That way I may have a chance at completing a respectable fraction of my tasks.
Anywhoo. I think I'm going to enter a photo competition. The grand prize is a ten day trip for one through the safaris of Tanzania. It is my personal goal to win this prize. Maybe if I write it out on the internet for the world to see, I'd feel completely committed, and it will help me in my endeavor. Godspeed to myself.
I have just gone brain dead. It is 4 am. I have to go to sleep now before the light of dawn turns me into a werewolf.
Friedens -the pseudo german term my friend has coined for peace
This is the fifth night I am up late doing at least 8 or 9 different things. I got into this bad cycle after Bangkok, where I found out aside from the Royal Palace, Pat"Pong" night market, and Muay Thai boxing, which I did in one of our five days there, there wasn't much else I felt like except loitering in shiny shopping malls. I were templed-out, monumented-out, night market-ed out, and after a crap experience at Bangkok's most esteemed thai-food institution, even Thai food-ed out. With all of nothing to lure me out of bed in the mornings, I slept until all ungodly hours of the day, yelling at cleaning ladies to ignore my sheets as I was happy in my undisturbed filth, ending up in a competition with myself to see how late I can stay up.
I won with 5 am two nights ago at the Shenzhen airport. I seem to be eternally condemned to catching shit flights that arrive past midnight and connect at six am the next day. I am then so lazy to find a hotel for four hours that I just sit on a filthy bench and wait it out. But I really love the night. Nobody engages me in useless conversations that I cannot wait to get out of, the sun doesn't beckon me into the outdoors, which I love, really, and even the spam in my inbox shuffles in at less frequent intervals. And since I'm one of those people who obsessively check my email for any flicker of movement, that means less distractions.
There. I just completed the daunting task of 'editing' my Facebook "Connections" list. I like how Facebook named it that rather than "Authentic Lifelong Friends", apparently they know what they're dealing with. My connections were getting out of hand, so I just whittled it down by about 700. Besides, I think FB is phasing out, we're going in the direction of multi-platform communication. I have no idea what that means, but it sounds about right. Twitter's the way of the world, and by that declaration I'm not a citizen of the world because China's banned it as of now. Google wave is the way of the future, and it's probably a good thing Microsoft didn't spend a gazillion dollars buying FB out.
Speaking of gazillion, I am overwhelmed with all the activities I have on my plate. Good overwhelmed, not the other kind. I am developing a food tour in Shanghai, so am reading up all I can on the city's back alleys, see-and-be-seen venues, hidden gems, long-standing institutions, traditions and trends. Adlyn has created a monster spreadsheet of tasks for me to complete this month. I said I wanted to work on everything she could hand me, but even for me this is a challenge.
Hias Gourmet work is only a part of the personal goals I want to accomplish this month. I already have an eternally growing pile of books beside my bed that I WILL read by this month. I am on a lounge/mood music binge, so that means I just spent 3 hours ripping 20 cds onto my ipod, listening to them from morning until night. I go to sleep with sweet dreams of Stephane Pompougnac and I in the infamous Hotel Costes. In addition to the vast food literature I'm tackling, I re-caught the lit bug after reading Steinbeck's East of Eden. I need more greats! Give me major Fitzgerald, none of that minor stuff!
I am still working on all my vacay photos. I have set myself realistic goals however, of one city a day, in the order that they occur, and have labelled and organized all my photos in detail for this express purpose. I have just finished sorting through the last week in Beijing. Why the f couldn't god have made the days 50 hours long? That way I may have a chance at completing a respectable fraction of my tasks.
Anywhoo. I think I'm going to enter a photo competition. The grand prize is a ten day trip for one through the safaris of Tanzania. It is my personal goal to win this prize. Maybe if I write it out on the internet for the world to see, I'd feel completely committed, and it will help me in my endeavor. Godspeed to myself.
I have just gone brain dead. It is 4 am. I have to go to sleep now before the light of dawn turns me into a werewolf.
Friedens -the pseudo german term my friend has coined for peace
7.22.2009
total eclipse of the heart
I left south east asia today for Beijing. It was a bittersweet ending, the mark of another chapter in my life, closed. I have another month in China, where I'll be doing a lot of miscellaneous work for Hias Gourmet in Beijing and Shanghai, and then it's off to real life back at home.
There were storm clouds all over China this morning, it was impossible to see the longest solar eclipse of the century from the ground. Lucky for me, I was soaring 50,000 meters above the ground at around 10 am when the skies became pitch black for 5 long minutes.
There were storm clouds all over China this morning, it was impossible to see the longest solar eclipse of the century from the ground. Lucky for me, I was soaring 50,000 meters above the ground at around 10 am when the skies became pitch black for 5 long minutes.
7.15.2009
the real laos
Searching for the "real Laos" brought me to a small village 85 km from Vientiane. I went there by myself yesterday as my friend stayed in the city waiting for his Thai visa to be issued.
The village of Ban Na, also known as "Elephant Village" is home to just over 100 families. The villagers experienced a mishap a few years ago when their sugar cane crops were demolished by sweet-toothed elephants wandering in the region. They could not control the elephants, but instead came up with a way to subsidize the income they lost in the sugar canes through sustainable tourism. Ban Na is also located at the base of a large conservation area called Phu Khau Khuay, so treks in the region are also usually launched from there.
For these reasons, I expected transportation to the area to be frequent and easy. Was I ever wrong. I walked early in the morning to the station where Lonely Planet said buses left from, and realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore. This was local territory. No one spoke more than one word of English, and I had considerable difficulty telling many people, mostly in sign language, that I wanted to go to a village with elephants. I pieced together that the bus I wanted was not there, but at another station 9 km away. So I took an hour-long journey on a minibus there, cramped in a seat with Lao old and young alike, teenagers and market vendors toting all their trinkets.
Upon arrival at the 'actual' station, I find out, naturally, that there are no buses to my destination. I had to take a 'tuk-tuk', basically a trailer with some seats attached to a smoking motorcycle. These are probably the third surest way to death after land mines and speed boats in South East Asia, and three jaw-clenching hours later, during which I managed to brave headaches and pot-holes to read 400 pages of 'East of Eden', I finally arrived in Ban Na.
This is when it started to pour. At the entrance to the village there was a small house with a storefront where I found refuge from the rain. No one spoke English, but I managed to tell the fifty year old owner of the house that I needed to sit under his roof for a while until it stopped raining. I was getting more and more dejected at this point because it was already three in the afternoon and considering the three hour journey home it was already about time I got back.
But in a way the rain was a blessing. Although the village was not its lively self in the gloomy weather, I sat in the midst of one villager's bustling family life, enjoying a silent sort of interaction with them all. There were no less than three generations sitting on that porch,underneath a covered tarp, the most prominent the group of children, seven or eight of them, chasing each other through the yard and shrieking with delight at each splattering of raindrops on their cheeks. I had a lot of fun taking pictures of them, and they found the photos on my camera absolutely delicious.
When the rain did not let up, I cut my losses and braved the rain and mud into the deserted village. It was such a peaceful walk, past rice fields, durian trees, lush vegetation, a couple of water buffalos, and then a hut on a hill with six little children underneath. They hollered at me from their place of hiding, "What's your name!" Children in Laos speak the best English because their parents instill that it is the surest way to employment. I yelled back and forth with them for a while, answering their questions and asking them questions they did not understand, making them giggle uncontrollably as a result.
Then I asked if I could join them, and they nodded, showing me the hidden route to their place of solace. They were weaving bamboo baskets, a specialty craft in this village. These bamboo baskets were sold around the country as containers for the Lao staple sticky rice. I asked their names, they were Bop,Pop,Kop,Jop,... swear to god. Aged between 9 and 13. One showed me how to weave the bamboo pieces interchangeably to create a firm round ring, and another one how to cut the fray bamboo off with a butcher knife and effortless grace. I showed them my camera and gave them a packet of coconut cookies I had in my bag. Lame exchange, I know.
As much as I would have loved to escape to this wondrous world of basket weaving with these charming kids, I was brought down to earth by the fact that I was dripping wet, smelled like water buffalo, and was getting closer minute by minute to nightfall. I had to leave them, sitting under the hut, joking and chattering, to go back to the village. As I turned the bend in the mud road, I heard them sing in unison a long "Thank youuuuuu!" and their giggles fading into the rain.
The village of Ban Na, also known as "Elephant Village" is home to just over 100 families. The villagers experienced a mishap a few years ago when their sugar cane crops were demolished by sweet-toothed elephants wandering in the region. They could not control the elephants, but instead came up with a way to subsidize the income they lost in the sugar canes through sustainable tourism. Ban Na is also located at the base of a large conservation area called Phu Khau Khuay, so treks in the region are also usually launched from there.
For these reasons, I expected transportation to the area to be frequent and easy. Was I ever wrong. I walked early in the morning to the station where Lonely Planet said buses left from, and realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore. This was local territory. No one spoke more than one word of English, and I had considerable difficulty telling many people, mostly in sign language, that I wanted to go to a village with elephants. I pieced together that the bus I wanted was not there, but at another station 9 km away. So I took an hour-long journey on a minibus there, cramped in a seat with Lao old and young alike, teenagers and market vendors toting all their trinkets.
Upon arrival at the 'actual' station, I find out, naturally, that there are no buses to my destination. I had to take a 'tuk-tuk', basically a trailer with some seats attached to a smoking motorcycle. These are probably the third surest way to death after land mines and speed boats in South East Asia, and three jaw-clenching hours later, during which I managed to brave headaches and pot-holes to read 400 pages of 'East of Eden', I finally arrived in Ban Na.
This is when it started to pour. At the entrance to the village there was a small house with a storefront where I found refuge from the rain. No one spoke English, but I managed to tell the fifty year old owner of the house that I needed to sit under his roof for a while until it stopped raining. I was getting more and more dejected at this point because it was already three in the afternoon and considering the three hour journey home it was already about time I got back.
But in a way the rain was a blessing. Although the village was not its lively self in the gloomy weather, I sat in the midst of one villager's bustling family life, enjoying a silent sort of interaction with them all. There were no less than three generations sitting on that porch,underneath a covered tarp, the most prominent the group of children, seven or eight of them, chasing each other through the yard and shrieking with delight at each splattering of raindrops on their cheeks. I had a lot of fun taking pictures of them, and they found the photos on my camera absolutely delicious.
When the rain did not let up, I cut my losses and braved the rain and mud into the deserted village. It was such a peaceful walk, past rice fields, durian trees, lush vegetation, a couple of water buffalos, and then a hut on a hill with six little children underneath. They hollered at me from their place of hiding, "What's your name!" Children in Laos speak the best English because their parents instill that it is the surest way to employment. I yelled back and forth with them for a while, answering their questions and asking them questions they did not understand, making them giggle uncontrollably as a result.
Then I asked if I could join them, and they nodded, showing me the hidden route to their place of solace. They were weaving bamboo baskets, a specialty craft in this village. These bamboo baskets were sold around the country as containers for the Lao staple sticky rice. I asked their names, they were Bop,Pop,Kop,Jop,... swear to god. Aged between 9 and 13. One showed me how to weave the bamboo pieces interchangeably to create a firm round ring, and another one how to cut the fray bamboo off with a butcher knife and effortless grace. I showed them my camera and gave them a packet of coconut cookies I had in my bag. Lame exchange, I know.
As much as I would have loved to escape to this wondrous world of basket weaving with these charming kids, I was brought down to earth by the fact that I was dripping wet, smelled like water buffalo, and was getting closer minute by minute to nightfall. I had to leave them, sitting under the hut, joking and chattering, to go back to the village. As I turned the bend in the mud road, I heard them sing in unison a long "Thank youuuuuu!" and their giggles fading into the rain.
7.11.2009
before I forget
The power cut out in my guesthouse last night before I finished my post. I had wanted to describe the utter magnificence of Lao's beauty. The slow boat did not bother me despite the delay in our travel plans because of the unspoilt scenery we saw along the way. There are literally no words to describe the strong beauty of the Mekong river as it slowly winds past the lush topiary of the Lao countryside. Brilliant greens layering on top of each other in the most perfect pastures, tall banana trees, rolling hills, and swaying grass. The Mekong river is not the cleanest I've ever seen. In fact it is downright opaque, picking up bankside mud as it rushes past our boat in a shade akin to orange clay. But I love the intensity of the colours. The sky is blue and the clouds white. Every direction I look is a new postcard ready to be sent home, luring people to this completely underrated and overlooked paradise.
If you thought that sounded like a song, don't even get me started on Luang Prabang. I have never seen a more idyllic town. The French colonial architecture fits beautifully onto the backdrop of glistening stupas and temples. The buddhist culture in Laos is as prominent as ever, with hundreds of temples, some dating back to the 1500's scattered on every block in Luang Prabang. Monks can be seen roaming the streets at all times of day, dressed in billowing robes of vibrant orange. By the dormitories inside each temple, orange robes hang on clothes lines drying under the sun. Every morning, the monks form a procession down the main street in an alms giving ceremony where locals give offerings to them of sticky rice and other food items. I will see this take place tomorrow morning if I wake up at 6 am as planned!
If you thought that sounded like a song, don't even get me started on Luang Prabang. I have never seen a more idyllic town. The French colonial architecture fits beautifully onto the backdrop of glistening stupas and temples. The buddhist culture in Laos is as prominent as ever, with hundreds of temples, some dating back to the 1500's scattered on every block in Luang Prabang. Monks can be seen roaming the streets at all times of day, dressed in billowing robes of vibrant orange. By the dormitories inside each temple, orange robes hang on clothes lines drying under the sun. Every morning, the monks form a procession down the main street in an alms giving ceremony where locals give offerings to them of sticky rice and other food items. I will see this take place tomorrow morning if I wake up at 6 am as planned!
7.10.2009
shit happens
The perfect slogan for the country of Laos. This is a place where time doesn't exist, everything breaks down- all the time, and the locals just sit back and chill out with a bottle of Beerlao, the national beverage, while they wait.
I am now in Luang Prabang, the beautiful former royal capital, a quiet idyllic town along the banks of the Mekong river. I could write a novel about the arduous journey here from Chiang Mai, Thailand, in which any other time I would have ripped my eyeballs out in frustration, but in this country can only shake my head and grin, because shit happens.
There are three ways to get to Luang Prabang from Chiang Mai. Lao airlines, which costs a fortune and has a terrible safety record, slow boat, which floats its way down the Mekong in two days, or a speed boat which takes half the time as the slow boat, for almost double its price. Because we are a bit time-strapped, we thought the optimal choice was the speed boat. After purchasing the ticket and arriving at the Laos border, I casually glance over my Lonely Planet and see a boxed warning against taking all speed boat travels in Laos as they are "dangerously fast" and about the most perilous thing you can do in Laos after walking through a field of land mines. This reassurance attained, we embarked our boat, literally a canoe with a greasy motor attached to the rear. Six people to a boat and absolutely no room to budge. Things were looking better and better. Our motor stopped working about ten minutes into the trip and our driver who spoke no english, managed to fix it with a wooden twig and a pocket knife. This ad hoc maintenance lasted us another couple of hours until it started drizzling. It then turned into a pour and then a torrent of waters from the sky, drenching us and all of our baggage on the uncovered boat. I didn't mind the wetness, but the motor had failed us again. And this time we sat on the river, tied to a tree branch, none of us talking as we could not communicate with the driver and found ourselves in that strange state of forlorn defeat in which we could do nor complain about nothing.
There we sat for an hour until another speed boat appeared. The driver whizzed off with the other guy back to the last town and returned with jumper cables that managed to fix the boat, but warned us that we may not make it to Luang Prabang by nightfall,and we should just stay overnight in the town. Lo and behold, it was the same town that the slow boats stop off for the night. Can you imagine the embarassment of running into the same people we smugly glanced at this morning? It was such a classic story of the turtoise and the hare.
The town was cute albeit completely subsistent on tourist boats, and that is where we woke up this morning. We were then told that plans had changed again! That slow boats were probably more reliable and safe for us because what if the motor breaks down again and we are to return back to this town for yet another night? At that point I was ready to take the risk take it anyways, but I suppose the other people on the speed boat were not down. Lame. So we ended up on a slow boat that was delayed for over an hour because the boat was filled to overcapacity with excess people waiting to board, and communication barriers between boat operators and passengers ensured that we just stalled with no progress for a very very long time.
Only at 5 pm did we arrrive in Luang Prabang, but just the evening wandering around town has already sold me on the place. The night market was the most unstressful shopping ordeal I had been through so far in Asia and the street food is amazing and cheap! I had an amazing Laos sandwhich (kind of like the viet subs with all kinds of things on a baguette) for about 60 cents, and they even have oreo/nutella milkshakes on the street!
I havn't posted in ages, mostly because I've been travelling around with little internet access. Apparently I hadn't emailed my parents in 6 days and I didn't even realize. Since I last posted from a private island off Phuket, I have been to Ko Phi Phi and Chiang Mai. I cannot wait to share the pictures, but those will have to wait. Bed time now.
Until next time!
x
I am now in Luang Prabang, the beautiful former royal capital, a quiet idyllic town along the banks of the Mekong river. I could write a novel about the arduous journey here from Chiang Mai, Thailand, in which any other time I would have ripped my eyeballs out in frustration, but in this country can only shake my head and grin, because shit happens.
There are three ways to get to Luang Prabang from Chiang Mai. Lao airlines, which costs a fortune and has a terrible safety record, slow boat, which floats its way down the Mekong in two days, or a speed boat which takes half the time as the slow boat, for almost double its price. Because we are a bit time-strapped, we thought the optimal choice was the speed boat. After purchasing the ticket and arriving at the Laos border, I casually glance over my Lonely Planet and see a boxed warning against taking all speed boat travels in Laos as they are "dangerously fast" and about the most perilous thing you can do in Laos after walking through a field of land mines. This reassurance attained, we embarked our boat, literally a canoe with a greasy motor attached to the rear. Six people to a boat and absolutely no room to budge. Things were looking better and better. Our motor stopped working about ten minutes into the trip and our driver who spoke no english, managed to fix it with a wooden twig and a pocket knife. This ad hoc maintenance lasted us another couple of hours until it started drizzling. It then turned into a pour and then a torrent of waters from the sky, drenching us and all of our baggage on the uncovered boat. I didn't mind the wetness, but the motor had failed us again. And this time we sat on the river, tied to a tree branch, none of us talking as we could not communicate with the driver and found ourselves in that strange state of forlorn defeat in which we could do nor complain about nothing.
There we sat for an hour until another speed boat appeared. The driver whizzed off with the other guy back to the last town and returned with jumper cables that managed to fix the boat, but warned us that we may not make it to Luang Prabang by nightfall,and we should just stay overnight in the town. Lo and behold, it was the same town that the slow boats stop off for the night. Can you imagine the embarassment of running into the same people we smugly glanced at this morning? It was such a classic story of the turtoise and the hare.
The town was cute albeit completely subsistent on tourist boats, and that is where we woke up this morning. We were then told that plans had changed again! That slow boats were probably more reliable and safe for us because what if the motor breaks down again and we are to return back to this town for yet another night? At that point I was ready to take the risk take it anyways, but I suppose the other people on the speed boat were not down. Lame. So we ended up on a slow boat that was delayed for over an hour because the boat was filled to overcapacity with excess people waiting to board, and communication barriers between boat operators and passengers ensured that we just stalled with no progress for a very very long time.
Only at 5 pm did we arrrive in Luang Prabang, but just the evening wandering around town has already sold me on the place. The night market was the most unstressful shopping ordeal I had been through so far in Asia and the street food is amazing and cheap! I had an amazing Laos sandwhich (kind of like the viet subs with all kinds of things on a baguette) for about 60 cents, and they even have oreo/nutella milkshakes on the street!
I havn't posted in ages, mostly because I've been travelling around with little internet access. Apparently I hadn't emailed my parents in 6 days and I didn't even realize. Since I last posted from a private island off Phuket, I have been to Ko Phi Phi and Chiang Mai. I cannot wait to share the pictures, but those will have to wait. Bed time now.
Until next time!
x
7.03.2009
A Good Year
This is where I am right now. A beautiful place to end a beautiful year and look forward to endless adventures ahead. Thanks for the birthday wishes!
x
7.01.2009
Dreamland
My first day in Bali was spent in search of the ever-elusive perfect beach. Expectations were high and anything less than postcard-perfect would not do. This took us to Dreamland, a dreamy cove hidden away in a luxury villa development. The beach is open to the public but there were so little people there it felt like we were in on some exclusive secret. Lonely planet wrote one line on how 'exquisite' the cove is, but really should have given budget travelers tips on how to stay in cheap guesthouses and weasel your way into the prime beach real estate of ultra-luxe hotels.
The waves at Dreamland are strong, and many pro surfers in the know make the pilgrimage to this site. Obviously the waves were too amateur for my mad surfing skills so I opted for infinity pool-side lounging in a beautiful restaurant located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Some reading, conversations with locals, a couple bottles of Bali's finest Bintang, a breathtaking sunset, and delicious seafood curry brought the day to a lazy close.
The waves at Dreamland are strong, and many pro surfers in the know make the pilgrimage to this site. Obviously the waves were too amateur for my mad surfing skills so I opted for infinity pool-side lounging in a beautiful restaurant located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. Some reading, conversations with locals, a couple bottles of Bali's finest Bintang, a breathtaking sunset, and delicious seafood curry brought the day to a lazy close.
6.27.2009
beds and bugs
Another night in Kuala Lumpur, another night of insect extermination before bed.
Budget travel can really bug me sometimes. Harhar. Was woken up at 3 am yesterday by creepy crawlers and was given a new room along with an industrial sized can of insect repellent. I did not know that bed bugs were real until this point. Didn't parents just make them up to scare toddlers? There were two kinds on my bed, one about 2mm in length that looked like a beetle, and the other so small I couldn't make out its shape. I have become paranoid, to the point that I believe I am being bitten even when my bed is parasite free, and jolt violently at the sensation of my legs being scathed by giant beetle fangs of my imagination.
We've spent the last two days in an air-conditioned mall, seeking refuge in the clean toilets of the Petronas towers as consequence to overzealous eating and drinking. I got too excited about the prospect of drinking delicious sweet milk tea served in a plastic baggie and forgot that ice cubes on the street are usually made with less than filtered tap water. It got so bad that our day trip yesterday to Melaka- the food capital of Malaysia- had to be forgone at the thought of a 2 hour bus ride towards a street food haven. Very disappointing, as the most 'authentic' culinary experience I've had since coming here was a curry laksa from Papa Rich, the Malay version of Manchu Wok. It was delicious though.
I won't bore you any longer with the invigorating details of my last few days indoors, over toilets, and in hysterics on the hostel bed.
I realize I never said goodbye to Beijing, I was in such a rush with my last exam, hosting Megan on her visit, packing and flying to KL, that I didn't have a chance to post any of my amazing photos and experiences from the last week. And oh, there were some great memories. I'll try to do so intermittently throughout the next month, while attempting to post somewhat in real time about my time in SE Asia. Enjoy the pics.
Budget travel can really bug me sometimes. Harhar. Was woken up at 3 am yesterday by creepy crawlers and was given a new room along with an industrial sized can of insect repellent. I did not know that bed bugs were real until this point. Didn't parents just make them up to scare toddlers? There were two kinds on my bed, one about 2mm in length that looked like a beetle, and the other so small I couldn't make out its shape. I have become paranoid, to the point that I believe I am being bitten even when my bed is parasite free, and jolt violently at the sensation of my legs being scathed by giant beetle fangs of my imagination.
We've spent the last two days in an air-conditioned mall, seeking refuge in the clean toilets of the Petronas towers as consequence to overzealous eating and drinking. I got too excited about the prospect of drinking delicious sweet milk tea served in a plastic baggie and forgot that ice cubes on the street are usually made with less than filtered tap water. It got so bad that our day trip yesterday to Melaka- the food capital of Malaysia- had to be forgone at the thought of a 2 hour bus ride towards a street food haven. Very disappointing, as the most 'authentic' culinary experience I've had since coming here was a curry laksa from Papa Rich, the Malay version of Manchu Wok. It was delicious though.
I won't bore you any longer with the invigorating details of my last few days indoors, over toilets, and in hysterics on the hostel bed.
I realize I never said goodbye to Beijing, I was in such a rush with my last exam, hosting Megan on her visit, packing and flying to KL, that I didn't have a chance to post any of my amazing photos and experiences from the last week. And oh, there were some great memories. I'll try to do so intermittently throughout the next month, while attempting to post somewhat in real time about my time in SE Asia. Enjoy the pics.
6.21.2009
Mutianyu
The Great Wall
Mutianyu Village is located in a ravine at the base of the Yanshan Mountains, approximately 70 kilometers to the northeast of Beijing. Two facts of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) history made this location particularly auspicious. The first was Ming enthusiasm for wall building, motivated in large part by a persistent fear that the Mongolians, whom the Ming had defeated in order to become the next ruling dynasty of China, remained a formidable threat to their grip on power. The physical space buffering the divide between the Han Chinese and Mongolian civilizations thus became prime building ground for defensive walls to keep the Mongols out.
The second fact was that in 1402, the Yongle Emperor usurped the Ming throne and subsequently returned the capital city from Nanjin in the south back to Beijing, This development elevated the strategic importance of Great Wall sites closest to the capital as a last line of defense against a Mongol invasion.
The Village
Leaving the Great Wall site, the view of the village is framed on both sides by mountains and hillsides that are sprinkled on both sides by mountains and hillsides that are sprinkled with ancient pines and sliced into bits of terrace just wide enough to accommodate a pair of apricot or chestnut trees. The main road that serves as the primary vein of village life snakes its way down into the ravine, as if someone started drawing an 's' and forgot to stop.
To the east of the main road, smaller dirt roads spread like fingers with houses at the end of their tips. To the west, the much flatter terrain permits a horizontal clustering of homes arranged in maze-like fashion. Some of the homes are coated with a thin layer of whitewash with bits of bare brick showing through in spots, and their facades are adorned with small garden patches fronted by doorways lined with long red strips of glossy paper whose bulbous gold-coloured "Good Fortune" characters become distorted as the corners start to peel away.
Mutianyu: Off the Great Wall- E. Williams
The School House
Sancha
to be continued...
Mutianyu Village is located in a ravine at the base of the Yanshan Mountains, approximately 70 kilometers to the northeast of Beijing. Two facts of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) history made this location particularly auspicious. The first was Ming enthusiasm for wall building, motivated in large part by a persistent fear that the Mongolians, whom the Ming had defeated in order to become the next ruling dynasty of China, remained a formidable threat to their grip on power. The physical space buffering the divide between the Han Chinese and Mongolian civilizations thus became prime building ground for defensive walls to keep the Mongols out.
The second fact was that in 1402, the Yongle Emperor usurped the Ming throne and subsequently returned the capital city from Nanjin in the south back to Beijing, This development elevated the strategic importance of Great Wall sites closest to the capital as a last line of defense against a Mongol invasion.
The Village
Leaving the Great Wall site, the view of the village is framed on both sides by mountains and hillsides that are sprinkled on both sides by mountains and hillsides that are sprinkled with ancient pines and sliced into bits of terrace just wide enough to accommodate a pair of apricot or chestnut trees. The main road that serves as the primary vein of village life snakes its way down into the ravine, as if someone started drawing an 's' and forgot to stop.
To the east of the main road, smaller dirt roads spread like fingers with houses at the end of their tips. To the west, the much flatter terrain permits a horizontal clustering of homes arranged in maze-like fashion. Some of the homes are coated with a thin layer of whitewash with bits of bare brick showing through in spots, and their facades are adorned with small garden patches fronted by doorways lined with long red strips of glossy paper whose bulbous gold-coloured "Good Fortune" characters become distorted as the corners start to peel away.
Mutianyu: Off the Great Wall- E. Williams
The School House
Sancha
to be continued...
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